


Rhapsody in Gold

by Erazon



Series: Prompt Weeks [3]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Multi, Poly V with Rapunzel in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25522579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erazon/pseuds/Erazon
Summary: "Everyone in this room believes it is her Destiny to be Queen- and maybe it is. It’s not exactly a position she can turn down.But the kind of Queen she’ll be, the one that she wants to be- the one that she chooses to be, is entirely up to her."A collection of Rapunzel Appreciation Week posts.
Relationships: Cassandra/Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Series: Prompt Weeks [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849057
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	1. Birthday

Rapunzel grimaces at the mirror. Even at her age, her skin was still smooth and full- but the lines were beginning to show, and not just when she frowned or smiled. Growing older wasn’t something Rapunzel had ever been afraid of; the future was hers to conquer, and she’d made the best life she could have ever dreamed of given the hand she had been dealt in her first twenty years. She’s proud of herself, as a Queen and as a person, but her reasonable understanding that her appearance does not determine her worth is eclipsed by the emotional gut punch of looking in a mirror and seeing wrinkles. 

She’s not ashamed of them, and she’s not ugly- but Gothel never let herself appear this aged. The moment wrinkles started to appear, she’d grab a fistful of golden hair and brush, and Rapunzel would sing, and they’d disappear. It’s hard. It’s hard to pretend she’s fine with getting older when almost her entire youth was dedicated to delaying the process for the woman she had thought was her mother. It’s hard for her to believe ageing isn’t wrong. 

It hadn’t really bothered her before; her mother and father gradually lost colour in their hair and today their appearance is a far cry from twenty years ago, but Rapunzel still finds them beautiful and loves them all the same. Eugene and Cassandra are older than her, and their hair has been scattered with grey streaks for a while now- and they wear it very well. They’ve both aged gracefully, looking like the distinguished adults they’ve grown into, but still. Rapunzel can’t help but look into the mirror and feel repulsed. She can’t sing a song and restore her youth anymore, as is her impulse. 

She buries the scowl on her face when she hears a knock on the door, and without waiting Eugene enters the room wearing his usual grin, Cassandra following behind him.

“Have you had a good birthday, Sunshine?” he asks, slinging an arm over her shoulder. 

“It’s been great,” Rapunzel replies honestly. The whole day has been considerably low key compared to usual Coronan festivities, but she’s grown to appreciate quiet sentimentality these days. 

“Good,” Cassandra comments, settling in on her other side to give her a peck on the cheek.

Rapunzel smiles fondly at her two partners, her two best friends, and she knows her dearest friend is watching over the three of them. Facing the future has never felt daunting with them by their side, and she knows getting older- even as it changes her appearance- is nothing to be scared of.


	2. Sunshine

Perhaps it’s an odd thing to say, but Rapunzel’s relationship with the sun is a complicated one. Hosting the sundrop always felt natural- or at least, it never felt _unnatural_ , because it was all she knew. She felt its presence whenever she sat in its light in her room in the tower, and she felt it swelling in her chest whenever she sang its healing incantation, but it’s in the same way she feels her heart beat with excitement when she gets a new letter from Cassandra or in the way she feels her stomach flutter when Eugene whisks her away on a date. It just is. 

Then, of course, there’s the whole ‘being the divine embodiment of the symbol of your future kingdom’ thing, which is its own whole thing. It’s a path she never could have imagined for herself before her eighteenth birthday, and it’s fantastical and overwhelming all at once, and before she’d ever given a second thought to her own spirituality, she’d ended up a near deity. The return of the Lost Princess who hosted the cosmic power of the sun in her seventy feet of golden hair had leant itself to a kind of idolatry in some sects, which was something she’s still not very comfortable with.

The Coronan’s worship of the sun isn’t something she doesn’t understand. Corona is famous across the seven kingdoms for its constant annual sunshine, which nourishes but never burns the crops, and provides perfect weather for most occasions. The temperate climate is enviable for the kingdoms swallowed by snow or drowning in humidity, and Coronan citizens personify the cheery spirits of a pleasant, warm day. But most important is that the divine cosmic power bestowed upon Corona the mythical Sundrop, and as such the solar blessing is ingrained within Coronan culture, iconography and spirituality. 

Some citizens try to find symbolism in the way she had united the Sundrop and Moonstone and sent it to the heavens, which really only adds to that problem, but at the very least they don’t believe the sun had forsaken her. But even after all this time, she doesn’t really know where she stands. She doesn’t feel its absence in the same way she never felt its presence, but maybe she feels a little less… special. Which is ridiculous, she knows, but it’s not exactly something she’s had a lot of time to think about. 

Sometimes she would sit out in the rose garden with her paints, basking in the afternoon glow and the romance of it all, trying to catch a glimpse of the shining sun in the corner of her eye, wondering if maybe this time it won’t burn her. It always would. 

Anyhow, there’s no real way to conclude these thoughts. That chapter in her life is closed, and she feels neither more fulfilled nor empty for the Sundrop’s absence. It’s one of those things that’ll make more sense later in life, she imagines, when she can see the forest through the trees. Maybe it’ll take until she’s at the end of her life, staring into Death’s eyes, before she can get the answer to her question- _why me?_

But until then, she just tries to enjoy the sunshine like everyone else.


	3. Destiny

To be honest, Rapunzel really dislikes _Destiny_. Determinism is a cruel philosophy, and it reminds her too much of being caged in a tower, being told what she can and cannot do. It reminds her of hopeless decisions where there is no real choice. The idea that her future is a path already laid out before her, and no matter how hard she struggles to change the course of her life, the universe is already two steps ahead- she dislikes- no, she loathes it. 

The Determinism of Destiny implies that her free will is an illusion, a comforting lie to wrap herself in to feel better about the lack of control she has over her life. It’s harsh language, but Destiny- Destiny can get screwed. She believes that she has free will because she wants to, because that’s more important to her than any predetermined fate could ever be. The ability to make choices that have meaning, the ability to decide her own future, _that’s_ important, more than Destiny could ever be. The Heaven’s and the Fate’s plans for her are hers to seize and rewrite. 

There are times she can’t help but wonder what her life might have looked like if her mother had never fallen ill and she had never been imbued with the Sundrop, if she had never been special- Destined. The prized pawn in the universe’s preordained game of chess.

Maybe all the twists and turns have been worth it in the end; she has a loving family, loving friends, a whole _kingdom_. But she’d be lying if she said she’s never thought that if given the choice to do it all over again, she might take the ‘born into a boring family to live a boring, normal life’ path. Though it’s not something she dwells on, because by this point she wouldn’t be surprised if some magical enchanted fairy turned up in her bedroom one day to offer her said choice. 

It’s this thought that swirls in her mind as a golden crown is lowered onto her head by venerable hands, the weight of it straining her neck, but she doesn’t falter. Her parents stand by her, their eyes shining with pide. The people of Corona stare up at her in awe, some faces she recognises but many she doesn’t, and her gaze sweeps over them. Everyone in this room believes it is her Destiny to be Queen- and maybe it is. It’s not exactly a position she can turn down. 

Yet the kind of Queen she’ll be, the one that she wants to be- the one that she chooses to be, is entirely up to her.


	4. Alternate Universe

Down the deserted halls of the castle, an unearthly shriek staggered through the silence. It was a shriller cry than anything heard in the dungeon’s cells, and twice as pained. A wandering maid was caught by another, abrupt wail, and she covered her ears as she scurried away from the Princess’ bedroom. Sitting on her bed, Rapunzel frowned, and set the violin down. 

“No, no- that was good!” 

“You don’t have to lie, Lio,” Rapunzel pouted, and Ilione’s encouraging yet false smile wavered. 

“Look, everyone sounds shit when they first start to play. It’ll come with practice!” she said, picking up the violin to do another demonstration. As she played, the strings sang with a honeyed tune, simultaneously earnest and melancholy. It was beautiful, and hearing it again gave Rapunzel a mite more motivation to achieve that for herself, but it washed away again when Lio offered the violin back to her. 

Gothel had once gifted her with an acoustic guitar when she was a young girl, providing her a new source of entertainment which she had equated with an expression of love. Of course, it was only ever appeasement, though she hadn’t thought so at the time. As a beginner, the flat and awkward notes of the guitar- and later the piano- were never too offensive, but she knew Gothel would have never allowed her the opportunity to learn a violin. As Rapunzel performed another stroke on the sleek wooden instrument, she was sure of it; Gothel wouldn’t have tolerated such woeful sounds assaulting her ears. Which was why she was determined to learn to play now, but it was harder than it looked. 

“Your arm movement’s good, but then you hesitate because you’re scared of how it’s going to sound, and that’s when your intonation gets thrown off. You just have to commit to your strokes, and with time and practice you’ll be able to trust yourself to hit the right note,” Lio explained, leaning over to adjust her positioning. 

“You make it look so easy,” Rapunzel groaned. Watching Ilione perform effortlessly with her violin, sliding the bow across the strings as easily as butter, had inspired her to pick up the instrument. Now she was twice as impressed- and disgruntled- knowing how much time it took to learn how to play properly.

The bitterness of being musically outclassed, of being reminded why she’d never had the chance to learn before, of being unfairly jealous- was unfortunately familiar, so she tucked it away and channeled it into a new determination. She appreciated Lio’s instruction and encouragement, and she was going to make it count. 

With a deep breath, Rapunzel tried again. She pulled the bow steadily but swiftly against a single string, drawing out a sharp, low note. It wasn’t a particularly clean or melodic sound, but it was sweeter than the previous shaky squeals she had been producing.

“That’s it!” Lio bounced on the bed with sincere enthusiasm. Her grin was infectious, and Rapunzel beamed with pride as Pascal gave her a tiny thumbs up. 

“Now try doing it again.”

Rapunzel’s smile fell, but she replaced it with a determined glare at the violin. She could do this! Except when she tried the strings shrieked again, and this time Ilione couldn’t hide her flinching shoulders. 

“Do you want to take a lunch break?”


	5. Life As A Princess

It’s funny, in a way, that while Rapunzel once wished for a greater purpose in life than keeping herself entertained in her tower, her new lifestyle is one of endless duties and not a moment’s spare time. Her life has finally begun, and it’s racing to catch up for eighteen lost years. It’s not a life she’d trade for anything, but it’s overwhelming, and she’s just grateful that the adjustment period has been kinder to her than what it otherwise could have been. 

Although there’s much for her to learn about palace living, her parents have allowed for and even embraced her desire for a more debonair approach to etiquette, diplomacy and engagement with her kingdom. She knows not everyone appreciates it; Nigel is hoping she’ll one day come around to the thought of wearing shoes, and Monty has made it his modus operandi to disapprove of everything she represents, but for the most part she’s accepted for who she is. 

However, that doesn’t make her schedule any lighter, or any easier to navigate- but thankfully, she doesn’t have to deal with it alone. Cassandra enters her room on cue with a basket of linens, offering a small half-smile of platitude that does little to mask her ennui. 

“Hey Cass,” Rapunzel says, and joins her by the bedside. “What’s on the list for today?” 

“The usual. Breakfast with your parents, then your daily lessons, then at four you’ll have to introduce yourself to the visiting Baron d’Annecy, but thankfully you won’t have to stick around for very long- he’s taking a tour of the vineyards,” Cassandra lists as she strips the sheets from the bed and dumps them on the floor. Rapunzel deflates at the itinerary, but it’s not the worst either; she’s had schedules that run on far into the night, which always leave her exhausted. She grabs a corner of the fresh linen to help Cass make the bed, but leaves her to tuck it all in in that seamless way only the staff seem to know. 

“Don’t forget to pencil in picnic at five,” Eugene announces as he sweeps into the room. Rapunzel looks to Cassandra in fear of witnessing the catalyst for a new argument, but she only finds Cassandra’s sharp lips turned upwards in an easy smile. 

“I cleared some space for you, you’re welcome,” she explains, immediately anticipating the incoming hug with a gratified grin. 

“Thanks, Cass! You’re the best,” Rapunzel gushes with a final squeeze, then slid over to Eugene’s side to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Yeah, just make sure your romantic getaway isn’t at the vineyards, or don't complain to me when you get roped into a tour with the Baron too.”

“Duly noted,” Eugene replies, holding the door open for Cassandra to leave with her basket, now filled with dirty linen. 

“So… picnic at five, huh?” Rapunzel grins.

“Yep. Just you and me and the evening sky-” a tongue assaults his ear “-and the frog,” he says, giving Pascal a sour glance. 

“It sounds wonderful,” Rapunzel says, and she means it. She’s got a long day ahead of her, but a date with Eugene at the end will give her motivation to get through it. They meet for a short kiss, before Rapunzel is off to join her parents for breakfast, and it’s barely enough to ride her over until later this afternoon but it’ll have to do. 

Although Rapunzel knows Eugene and Cassandra don’t always see eye to eye, she knows she needs them both. Without Cassandra, she’d fall apart under the stress of her royal expectations while having to keep track of everything on her own. And when it all gets too much despite the help she has, Eugene is always there to whisk her away for a moment of peace. 

The life of being the Lost Princess isn’t the fairy tale she thought it’d be, but she’s glad she has her loved ones to see her through it.


	6. Brunette

Rapunzel stared at the canvas with a tight frown and tilted her head left, then right, then took a step back- then shook her head.

“I don’t know what it is, Pascal! I’m just not feeling it,” she said, and the little chameleon chirped on her shoulder. There wasn’t anything technically wrong with the self portrait, but something about it just wasn’t right. She thought the eyes were fine; they were the right shade of green, with a little bit of blue reflecting from the sky- crinkled with happiness. Her smile wasn’t overly bright nor insincere, and the pose wasn’t too stiff. The colours all harmonised, not too saturated but not too grey, and everything was where it should be. So why did it feel all wrong?

Before she could think about it any further, her bedroom door burst open with a grandiose flourish.

“Rapunzel! It’s so good to see you,” Willow cried out as she crossed the room in two large strides.

“Aunt Willow!” Rapunzel gasped and bounded over to meet her in a crushing hug.

“Oh, you don’t know how good it is to see you again,” Willow wheezed, embracing her just as tight. They shared a fond smile when they released each other, but it wasn’t long before Willow was distracted by the canvas still sitting in the centre of the room.

“That’s a gorgeous painting. You look beautiful,” she commented, stepping closer to inspect the oils.

“Thanks, it’s the first one I’ve painted of myself since my hair...” Rapunzel trailed off, carding her fingers through the short ends. She looked at the portrait again, regarding the warm hues of umber and chestnut. Willow glanced at her, then back at the painting.

“Right, of course. It suits you, by the way. You look so much like your mother,” Willow commented, a fond smile creeping onto her face.

“She looks a lot like you, too,” Arianna commented as she joined them. Willow’s smile dropped into a smirk as she watched her sister cross the room.

“Well, we’ve always looked a lot like each other. Remember that guy who thought we were twins?”

“Because you told him we were twins,” Arianna replied, rolling her eyes with a grin. That, of course, was all it took for Willow to launch into a tale from their past, relaying all the finer details of their run-in with a burly tavern keeper when they were travelling incognito across their homeland, dodging the guards from the search party-

“Your portrait is looking beautiful, by the way,” Arianna said, nudging Rapunzel’s shoulder. Rapunzel startled out of the trance of Willow’s account, and she looked to her mother before glancing back to the portrait. Now that it was framed by her family, the two women who wore the dark hair she should have been born with, which had been returned to her when she had cut it again; it all fell into place.

“Yeah, I really like it. Thanks, mom,” Rapunzel said, grinning at her reflection.


	7. Free Spirit

It’s hardly a surprise to anyone that Rapunzel likes birds. Their access to the world is limited only in as far as they can fly, and with them they carry endless songs and colours. They’re beautiful creatures, and have inspired her artistic muse on many occasions. But then, Rapunzel likes chameleons too. She envies the way Pascal shifts and morphs, blending in with his surroundings as if he were never there in the first place. He doesn’t have the freedom that a bird has, but he survives by adapting, and Rapunzel supposes that she’s more like Pascal than the birds outside. 

She’s also _been_ a bird, once, and the experience isn’t entirely one she wants to relive, even as enjoyable as soaring above the clouds had been. And as it turns out, running away from her problems doesn’t help much. Rapunzel also has to assume being a chameleon is similarly no walk in the park- she knows how dangerous the world can be for Pascal, and she much prefers him relying on her rather than his hide for safety. 

She’s the Sundrop, she’s the Lost Princess. She has responsibilities she can never escape, so it’s all she can do to adapt and survive, but she’s not alone in that either; everyone’s living in their own cage, carrying their own burdens and responsibilities. And Rapunzel is very, very familiar with cages. 

Freedom doesn’t really look like flying away, never to be seen again. It doesn’t look like shifting scales, either, changing to become one with the environment. The best way Rapunzel can describe it is changing the world to suit herself; she’s not going to run and she’s not going to hide. Instead she fights, for the freedom to do things her way. 

She isn’t ignorant to Corona’s flaws, to the flaws of her father, and her mother, and that these flaws will become her own when she takes the crown. However fit she is to rule, she can’t rebuild Corona in a day, but with a forgiving smile and a declaration of love, she makes her first start.


End file.
